Stopgap
by Poisoned Scarlet
Summary: AU! Part II of III in the Quicksand series – He's filling something inside of her that she never knew was empty.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Soul Eater or the lyrics to _Wicked_ by _Jupiter Rising._

**Stopgap  
>by. <strong>_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

><p>"<em>I'd like to change, but I'm wicked<br>It's hard to say from where I get it  
>All I know is that when I'm with you<br>You tame and inflame my wicked ways..."_

* * *

><p><strong>1a<strong>

There were those moments in life when you awoke and the feelings of nothingness spread through your chest like water did across a surface.

Maka stared at the ceiling, striped with the bright sunlight that entered through the blinds of the window. The room stunk of something thick, heady, and the word was on the tip of her tongue when someone groaned and shifted beside her.

Rigid, heart pounding, Maka turned her head and stared at the flurry of silvery hair that poked from underneath the sheets. Then she became aware of the heat that radiated from his body, of his even breaths as he slept, of his musky scent, which pervaded throughout the entire room.

Her eyes darted around the room, the suddenly _unfamiliar room_, and Maka jolted up in a panic.

She cringed and looked back at the man beside her, nude as she was, but found him soundly asleep; even drooling, she noticed dryly.

_I can't believe it! _Maka fretted, pale-faced. _Why am I here – in his __apartment__? _The recollection of the previous night hit her like a brick, and she sourly thought that Soul was far too persuasive for his own good.

But this had gone far enough: she'd never awoken in another person's _bed!_ She'd always awoken in her own bed; in the only place where she can pretend it was a wonderful, fake, dream for a little while before rising.

Quietly, she snatched up her dress and slid it over her head hastily. She grabbed her shoes, discarded randomly near the doorway, and searched for anymore clothing she might've missed. Her underwear was missing, her bra most likely in the same position, but it was late morning and she was late for her first lecture of the day.

Her eyes returned to Soul.

He looked peaceful, the sheets halfway down his body and revealing pale flesh. Her eyes caught the translucent line that ran down his chest, _a scar, _and she was transfixed for a moment.

She wondered how he got it.

She wondered if it hurt a lot.

She wondered who _did_ _it_ and felt rage bubble inside.

Then she tore her eyes away and closed the bedroom door behind her quietly, reluctantly making her way back to her own lonely home.

* * *

><p><strong>1b<strong>

"Are you still seeing... _him_?" Tsubaki asked timidly the next morning, as they both prepared their materials for the lecture. "Maka-chan?"

"Do you mean Soul?"

"Ah, so he has a name..." Tsubaki wearily humored. Maka smiled very faintly at her attempt to lighten the atmosphere. It had been rather strained between them since Tsubaki caught her walking into her apartment at 7 in the morning a morning ago. "Yes, Soul-san."

"I wouldn't call it 'seeing' so much as it is 'doing it every Saturday'," Maka moodily said, slamming her pencil down beside her binder. At Tsubaki's look, Maka confessed: "We're just – I don't know _what_ we are. Ever since I broke up with Hiro... we've been seeing each other a lot, but..."

"But you're not going where you want this to go to?" Tsubaki filled in, gently.

"No!" Maka shook her head, vigorously. "No, that's not it at all! I don't want to start a relationship with him – or anyone, actually. This is... _good_. It's just a little strange." Maka gnawed on her bottom lip, gazing at her binder in conflict. "That's all."

Tsubaki searched her face for a second before turning and pretending to flip through her notes. "As long as you're happy, Maka-chan."

"I _am_ happy." Maka insisted, although the words oddly caught in her throat and came out rather strangled.

* * *

><p><strong>A.N: <strong>I want to explain this whole '1a' and '1b' thing that I neglected to explain in the first part of this series. All it means is that they're in parts – think of them as drabbles. I'm telling a story in short, meaningful, pieces. At least I hope they're meaningful. Maka may be OOC for a few of you but, due to the situation I put her in, I have to tweak her character. Nevertheless, I'l try to keep all characters within believable bounds. Just don't bug me about Maka, or any other character, being OOC because you have all been warned :)

This story may not get updated as frequently as Quicksand but I'll try my best to update every week!

_Scarlett._


	2. Chapter 2

**Stopgap  
>by. <strong>_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

><p><strong>2a<strong>

* * *

><p>"You left."<p>

"Ah!" Maka gasped, nearly spilling her coffee all over her shirt. She turned, finding Soul standing directly behind her, looking distinctly annoyed. "Soul! How many times have I told you not to do that?" She snapped.

"You _left_." Soul repeated. He crossed his arms. "That was _not_ cool."

"What – oh." Maka tensed. "I was late for class..."

"You could've woken me up." Soul muttered. "I would've given you a lift back, since I _did_ drag you back to my place."

"Yeah, but..." Maka fidgeted. "You looked really tired. And I don't need someone to drive me back! I don't live very far from you, actually..."

He perked up at this. "Where _do_ you live?"

"Three blocks down, near Shear street." Maka answered quickly, watching his eyes grow distant with thought before they locked with hers again. She hastily looked away when they did, taking a drink of her coffee. "What are you doing here?"

"Saw you from over there." Soul thumbed lazily behind him, to the auto-shop.

"Oh..." Maka murmured, awkwardly. She had never had much contact with men – or people in general. Hiro and she had met during class, having been paired for a project, and it had grown from therein rather smoothly. Maka communicated with Soul better under the cloak of nightfall, anyway. "Is something wrong with your car?"

"Nah, just there to pick up some oil for my bike."

Maka stared. "...Bike?"

"Yeah, my motorcycle." Soul snorted at her horrified look and added: "What's with the face? Motorcycles are cool."

"They're _deathtraps_!" Maka insisted. "How could you even get on one? Wearing a helmet won't save you from breaking a bone if you crash!"

"Helmet? Those are _so_ uncool..."

Maka gawked. "You don't even wear a_ helmet_?"

"I have to." Soul sighed, forlorn. "Or else I get a ticket, and I can't afford another one - !"

Maka reached forward and smacked him, scowling and ignoring his sputtering. "You should wear it _all_ the time – not _just_ because you may get a ticket! One accident could _kill_ you, you moron!"

He grinned, revealing jagged teeth.

Her heart sped up.

"Care about me that much already?" He teased. "Chill out, as if a stupid accident is gonna' finish me off. It'll take more than that to make me bite the dust."

Maka pressed her lips together. "It's not like that. You're my friend: I wouldn't want something bad to happen to you!"

A shadow crossed his eyes and she took a step back in caution when he leaned forward and said, his tone a cross between sweetness and cruelty: "You wouldn't want me to go because I'm the only one you can go to on lonely nights, right?"

Eyes wide, mouth drying, Maka barely rasped: "N-_no_! What are you—?"

Then he laughed and patted her head.

"I was kidding, you should've seen the look on your face! Don't take me too seriously – OW!" He howled in pain, sending her a watery glare: "Why'd you do that for? That _hurt_!"

"THAT WASN'T FUNNY!" She screeched, punching him on the shoulder this time. He hissed, rubbing the pain out of his arm while simultaneously trying to mitigate the pain in his skull. "You're such an _asshole_!"

Soul snorted, shrugging out his sore arm. "Whatever, you didn't have to hit me so hard. Take a fucking joke." Something in the distance caught his eye because he turned to it and began to walk away from her. "Anyway, see ya' later, Maka. Gotta' go."

"Wai - mm." Maka cut herself off, as he walked away from her and toward another man standing beside a row of motorcycles; right beside a busty, purple-haired, woman who was rummaging through a white leather handbag furiously.

* * *

><p><strong>2b<strong>

There was a deep jealousy burning in her gut.

Black Star's rambling fell on deaf ears: Maka was staring across the street, to the lean man who was shaking out a lighter with a slight frown.

Beside him, a voluptuous woman with long, purple-dyed, hair pulled back into a ponytail held onto his elbow; whining something Maka couldn't hear over the roaring in her ears.

Maka refused to dig deeper into the rooted hatred for the woman who was now running her fingers across _his_ cheek in a mock-loving gesture. That woman's eyes were an insidious golden, lips curled into a deceiving grin that made the hairs on her arm rise; lips pull back into a fierce snarl.

She was poison.

Yet he did nothing more than stand there, allowing her to dangle off his arm, shaking out his lighter absently and snapping things at the woman when she drew too close to him or bothered him with her ceaseless whines.

"Maka-chan, are you okay?" Tsubaki asked, concerned.

Maka tore her eyes from the scene, swallowing down her bitterness, and forced a smile on. "Yeah, I'm fine, Tsubaki! I just got lost in a thought, that's all!"

Tsubaki stole a glance to where Maka had been intently staring at and pursed her lips when she saw nothing but a man with a woman, whom Tsubaki assumed was his girlfriend by how closely they were standing although she could not be sure. He looked annoyed, the woman looked annoyed and impatient.

"Are you sure? You look a little angry—!"

"Yeah, why're you pissed, Maka?" Black Star smirked, also having noticed her fury. "Ox get a better score on a test or something?"

"_No_!" Maka regretted ever blowing off steam by ranting about Ox Ford, her intellectual rival, to Black Star when Tsubaki had been absent. "I was just thinking, alright?"

"About becoming my fan?" Black Star guessed, hopeful his monologue had convinced her somehow.

"NO!" Maka growled. Her hand gripped her bookbag tightly and she began to walk down the street, resolutely staring anywhere but where she knew Soul stood with that gorgeous woman. "I'll see you two later – the Professor left me a lot of homework tonight, and I want to start it now while I have free time!"

"Ah – wait, Maka-chan!" Tsubaki called, alarmed. "Before you go: I won't be able to come this Saturday!"

Maka stilled, looking over her shoulder. "Why not? We _always_ go..." She meant the club, where Tsubaki would dance the night away and Maka would tangle herself with Soul until morning.

Tsubaki's face flushed and before she could open her mouth, Black Star cut in excitedly: "Tsubaki and I are gonna' go on a _date_! I'm taking her to a place built for gods," he grinned, "_Burger King—_OW!"

"Don't you dare, Black Star!" Maka hissed, raising her book threateningly.

"What the hell did you do that for?" Black Star barked, holding his head. "I was kidding, you witch!"

"Shut up, you midget!"

"Flat-chest!"

"_Asshole_!"

"Bit—!"

"Guys, please, stop!" Tsubaki interrupted, cutting between them. "Black Star, don't! Maka-chan..."

Maka sneered.

Black Star snarled.

"It's okay, Tsubaki." Maka said stiffly, ignoring Black Star, who rudely mimicked her when she wasn't looking. "You two have fun – we can just go next time." She clutched the book to her chest, smiling weakly. "Okay?"

Unsure, Tsubaki nodded. "Okay... sorry, again, Maka-chan...I know how you really like to go."

Maka stole a glance across the street and was appalled to see Soul looking back.

She darted her eyes away quickly when she noticed the gorgeous woman was peering at her curiously, obviously intrigued by Soul's interest in her.

Maka began to walk backwards down the sidewalk. "I'll see you tomorrow, Tsubaki! It's no big deal - we'll just go next time!" She shouted, pivoting on her heel as her friend waved her goodbye and Black Star shouted his own farewell.

Her stomach felt upset.

It wrenched and twisted; bitterness rising up her throat, pooling in her chest with every stomping step.

She shouldn't be feeling possessive over someone she only saw every weekend – no matter how much they spoke after they had relations, no matter how much she liked his morbid humor and jagged grin when she said something dorky or the other.

Building a relationship upon sex would never work...

Who was she kidding?

Soul hardly had any obligation to her aside from screwing her every weekend: they'd discussed this, after she had broken it off with Hiro, between heated kisses inside that sweltering room, that they were doing nothing more than benefiting themselves from each others bodies.

Yet...

_"You ain't so bad," Soul grinned, ruffling her hair. She slapped his hand away, scowling. He had pulled off her pigtails in their roughhousing. "You know, once I got over your dorkiness."_

_"Shut up! You wouldn't be so bad, either, if you weren't such a slacker!" Maka huffed, pulling the sheets up her chest conservatively._

_"Being lazy never killed anyone." Soul smirked._

_"But it does get you thrown out on the street." Maka quipped._

_He laughed, although his eyes had grown strangely distant. "Don't worry about that - the last place I'm gonna' end up is like some bum on the corner of some street."_

_"Why would you say that?"_

_He turned his head, mouth parted to answer. Instead, he smiled crookedly and flicked her forehead; swallowing down his words. "None of your business, nerd."_

Who was she kidding?

Those conversations meant nothing to a person who viewed her as nothing more than a thing they could use to blow off steam after a hard week.


	3. Chapter 3

**Stopgap  
>by. <strong>_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

><p><strong>3a<strong>

* * *

><p>"<em>...open the door, Maka!"<em>

"_NO!" She had been caught off-guard when Soul turned up at her front steps, claiming he needed a huge favour from her and it could not wait until Saturday._

_She had promptly slammed the door in his face._

"_What the hells your problem? Open the goddamn door!"_

"_No, Soul, go away! I don't want to see you right now!" She shouted, back pressed against the door of her apartment. "I'm busy!" Heart pounding, she relaxed when she heard nothing on the other side._

"_Huh... what's that noise...?" Maka asked herself, brows furrowed at the peculiar metal clicks she heard. By the time she realized what they were, Soul had shoved the door half-way open and stuck his steel-toed boots into the crack to avoid having it shut in his face again. "HOW DID YOU GET IN?"_

"_Picked the lock," Soul grunted. He shoved the door open and Maka stumbled back, glaring at him while he dusted himself off and shut the door behind him with his boot. He looked up, scowling furiously. "Now what the fuck was that all about?"_

"_How about you tell me what the fuck yesterday was all about?" Maka shouted back, surprising him._

"_Yesterday?"_

"_By the university! I _know_ you saw me!" She said, jogging his memory. "If you're going out with someone," Maka forced out, pushing down her bitterness, "then this deal is off! I refuse to become your other girl – it's not fair to her!"_

_It became very silent, as Soul digested her words._

_Maka was taken aback when Soul suddenly doubled over in laughter._

_She flushed red. "Wh-what – what's so funny? Stop laughing! I'm being serious!"_

"_Did you really think I was going out with Blair?" Soul laughed again at her embarrassed look. "You idiot – she's a STRIPPER. She's after my friend. We were waiting for him outside since he's studying there. I was gonna' talk to you, but you looked busy..." He trailed off, slipping his hands back into his jackets pockets. "And the idiot was with you, too..." He added, more to himself than her._

"_B-but she was practically rubbing herself on you – what was I _supposed_ to think?" Maka snapped right back, pushing down her embarrassment and ignoring his last comment. "I just didn't want to be the other girl if you were in a relationship!"_

_He smiled, amused. "Yeah, I get it. I told you before, didn't I? Cheating isn't cool. But, if I _were_ going out with someone, I wouldn't be meeting you every Saturday." He said, smug. "I wouldn't need to, if you catch my drift - !"_

_"Maka Chop!" She ignored his loud complaint as he held his pained head. _"_Then why are you here today? It's not even Saturday yet!" Maka demanded, conscious that she lived alone and no one other than Tsubaki had access to her home._

_He smirked._

_She pressed the book to her chest protectively._

* * *

><p><strong>3b<strong>

"_Ah_!...No, wait – !"

Tsubaki froze midway through opening the door, brows furrowing.

She cautiously stepped inside, leaving the front door open in case she would need to dash out of it again. In her hand, grocery bags hung; having kept her word that she would pick up a few things from the market for Maka.

Maka had said she would be awaiting her arrival...

But she hadn't said anything about having company over; and even then, Maka never allowed strangers or other friends into her home except herself.

"Maka-chan – !" Tsubaki cut herself off at the sound of the headboard being slammed against the wall.

"Fuck!" A rough voice swore, muffled by the walls. Tsubaki had a sinking feeling she knew who it was. "Don't move around like that! I'll come, you moron, do you want that?"

"Then stop – _jerking me around so much, Soul_!"

Tsubaki slapped a hand over her mouth, eyes round with realization.

They darted to Maka's bedroom door, which was ajar. She made point to quickly look away when she caught a glimpse of shifting shadows but regretted the action immediately: a leather jacket and one of Maka's books _and _boots were discarded carelessly on the carpeted floor.

They merely confirmed what Tsubaki had been afraid of.

_Just leave the food and get out. Just leave the food and get out. _Tsubaki weakly chanted to herself.

She headed for the dining room table in a rush, placing the grocery bags carefully upon the wood. She jumped when she heard a moan rip through the apartment, her cheeks growing darker and darker. Doing her best to ignore the suddenly loud squeaking of springs, she quickly transferred the items she had bought for herself into another bag and left what Maka needed on the table.

_I left the food, now get out! _Tsubaki commanded herself, bolting to the open front door.

She promised herself next time she would first knock, not use the key to her apartment.

Things were different now, it seemed.

"—_NGH, SOUL – !"_

Tsubaki shut the door and plugged her ears, shutting her eyes to focus on what she was going to cook for dinner tonight and _not_ what was happening within Maka's room. She wasn't experienced with handling these sorts of situations: she knew Maka had been having relations with someone named Soul but, since he had always managed to sweep Maka away before Tsubaki could spy on them, she had absolutely no idea who he was.

The voice, however, had sounded quite familiar...

A whistle broke her intense focus.

"Neh, Tsubaki!" Black Star waved, grinning brightly. Tsubaki's face darkened a shade, too aware of the activities going on in her best friends apartment. "I got that Katana you wanted to see! It's so awesome – it's been passed down from father to son for generations!" He waved around a long, rectangular, box wrapped many times in white silk with Japanese characters running down its length.

"O-oh, really?" Tsubaki squeaked. She stiffly walked away from Maka's apartment, opening the door to her own. "Um, the chain scythe I promised you is at my Father's home, so you won't be able to use it. But I _do_ have pictures – !"

"Sweet! Lemme' see! Lemme' see!" Black Star shouted excitedly, darting past her and into her apartment.

"Black Star, be careful, I rearranged the furniture a few days ago – !"

"—OW... I'm okay!" His sheepish laugh rang back to her. Tsubaki sighed, hoping he really was. "Hey, you gotta' phone I could borrow? I have to hit up my friend to tell him I won't be able to make it to that basketball game tonight!"

"Yes, I do. You can use the house phone, if you like. It's by the television."

Casting one last wary look at Maka's apartment, Tsubaki turned back into hers and closed the door behind her, bent on never once breathing a word about what she had _heard _(not seen – god forbid if she had actually _seen_ something!) within the usually lonesome expanses of her friends home.

"Hey, yeah, Soul, listen... wait, who was that? What the hell - _was that a girl?_"

Tsubaki froze for the second time that day, all brain function stopping as she digested this new twist in her life.

"No way, that _was_ a chick! HYAHAHA, you're finally _scoring_!"

_This can't be happening..._

"Whatever! You're still scoring. Anyway, I won't be able to make it to the game tonight. But I bet you won't mind..." Black Star cackled as his friend growled something at him. "Your God bids you farewell, and to last more than two min - hello? Hello? That bastard just hung up on me! I'm gonna' call him back just to hang up on _him_..." He laughed, wickedly.

Tsubaki, however, slumped numbly into a chair, face beet red, hoping she would be able to look Black Star's best friend in the eye when she finally met him...


	4. Chapter 4

**Stopgap  
>by. <strong>_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

><p><strong>4a<strong>

* * *

><p>Blair Lanterne was gorgeous, even more so under the shadowy lights of the club.<p>

She had slightly feline characteristics, with what her curling smile and brilliant golden eyes. She towered over her: all curves and porcelain skin and confidence; her lips plump and luscious with grand amounts of lip gloss. She could see the smokey eyeshadow covering her eyelids every time she blinked, the perfectly traced black line that accentuated her almond-shaped eyes.

Her jeans rode low on her hips; her shirt tight, a size small, and constraining the bulging assets that Maka had failed to acquire when she was in high school. Although, Maka decided, she would be better off _without_ them just by the way Blair got eyed with such a visceral hunger that induced a shudder within Maka. How someone could stand being stared at in such an indecent way and not feel violated was beyond her.

Her heels were spikes, adding to her height, and they made Maka wonder how she could walk in them without wincing. But they suited her well, adding a fluid elegance to her stride that Maka could never, _ever_, get in a million years even if she _tried_...

"Oh, _Soul_, she's so adorable!" Blair squealed, clasping her hands together. Her nails were sharp, _purple_, and long and _fake. _Her hair was loose today, tumbling down her bare shoulders in natural curls. "You look so _cute_ with those pigtails! How old are you – sixteen?"

"Twenty one." Maka deadpanned.

Blair blinked, cheery smile frozen. "Oh. _Wow_, you don't look twenty one – Maka, was it? You age well!"

Soul stifled laughter behind her, hiccups of it escaping him at times while Maka seethed. When a rather loud choke of laughter escaped him, Maka backhanded him and ignored his pained swears.

"You're, ah, also very pretty, Blair." Maka politely said, and Blair beamed.

"Why, thank you, Maka! Oh! _Kilik_!" Blair brightened visibly, most of her discomfort gone now that she had a distraction. "Hey! Over here – I want you to meet someone! She's this cute little thing Soul picked up a few weeks ago – come _here_!" Blair ran over to him after tossing her another one of her practiced smiles, clearly just wanting to get away from her after her massive screw up.

Maka released a quiet sigh, shoulders sagging. Did she honestly look so under-aged and under-developed? Her body wasn't _that_ childish: she had reasonably sized breasts, given her thin but toned body, and Maka was sure her face had _matured_ enough over the years...maybe the pigtails were too much?

"_Pfft_, sixteen?" Soul snickered. He stood beside her now, holding his throbbing cheek. "Blair's a fuckin' moron. You straight out look eighteen."

"Shut up, Soul." Maka snapped. "You're _not_ helping!"

"What? You do." Soul rolled his eyes when she glowered. "Do you _really_ think I would've gone after you if you looked sixteen?"

Maka pursed her lips stubbornly and Soul scowled.

"Do I _look_ like some sick pervert to you?" Soul hissed. "_No_. So you don't look twenty one, big deal, you look eighteen and that's all that matters."

"I'd probably look older if I wore make-up..." Maka mumbled, gloomily. Her eyes darted to the women that walked past her with their date or friends. _They_ all wore make up: eyeliner and mascara and blush and foundation and eyeshadow and – !

"No way, I _hate _girls who wear make up. They're so... _uncool._" Soul stated, breaking her concentration. She looked at him, at his grimace and his disgust. "It's like wearing a mask – and that shit gets all over you, too!" He yawned out, looking at her: "I like them natural – not hidden under layers of paint like some clown."

Her heart was pounding again.

Why was he looking at her like that?

She wanted him to stop.

"Maka! Soul!" Blair waved over, cheerfully. "Hurry _up_, the parties just begun! I wanna' get a drink before the bar gets full!"

Her heart was still pounding when they reached Blair.

* * *

><p><strong>4b<strong>

"So, how _did _you meet Soul?" Kilik Rung was friendly but chill. Dressed down in saggy black pants, a white muscle shirt with a light colored button-up thrown over him, he was the epitome of laid back.

"In this same club, actually." Maka replied, holding a glass in her hand. It was fruity, like strawberries mixed with mango, but it lacked the usual hit of alcohol she had admittedly grown used to drinking every weekend. Soul had said she wouldn't drink tonight and got her this instead. "We – just met over a few drinks, that's all."

_Not_ because their eyes had both met across the dance floor, which in turn unleashed a flurry of motion that Maka only remembered in heated pants and impatient groans; hot touches and breathed names.

"Huh, weird." Kilik commented, taking a drink. "Soul doesn't usually just talk to random girls." He looked at her, curiously. "What'd you say to him?"

"Uh – nothing." Maka mumbled, fidgeting. And she hadn't – not really. She'd been drunk out of her mind, Maka humiliatingly admitted to herself, who knows what the hell she had said to get him in bed? Whatever she said, it must've worked, because she was _still _getting him in bed!

"Eh, I wouldn't be surprised if you just looked at him." Kilik laughed, finishing his drink and unknowingly hitting the nail on the head. "Soul's just weird like that sometimes. But he's a pretty genuine guy, once you get to know him. You're going out with him, right?"

"No!" Maka blurted, face warming. "No, we're not! We're just close friends, that's all!"

"You're not?" Kilik's brows shot up. "You two look like you are. Blair's been tellin' me he always talks about you and stuff. I just assumed."

"He... he does?"

Kilik shrugged. "I guess. He tones it down with me but Blair likes all this romance crap so she's always asking him about you. She's been meaning to meet you for a while now." Kilik smiled. "She likes you, by the looks of it."

"About Blair..." Maka hesitated, fingering the rim of her glass. She didn't want to push it but she needed to know. "Are you two going out?"

Kilik's friendly smile faltered somewhat and he looked away from her, down to his empty glass. "I, uh, dunno'."

"How can you not know?"

"I just don't." Kilik heaved a sigh. "Look, it's complicated between us, alright? Sometimes, I do wanna' date her, and other times, I don't, 'cause what we have... it ain't right." He shook his head. "It's just messed up."

"What _do _you two have together?" Maka questioned, curiously. "I-if you don't mind me asking!" She added, hastily.

Kilik smiled, halfheartedly. "Nah, s'okay. You heard what she works in, right?" At Maka's uncomfortable look, Kilik continued: "It started off as a fling. One night stand, y'know? Then she kept coming back... and I guess our feelings got in the way and it got complicated. She don't wanna' give up her job, I don't wanna' date a, well..."

"And now you don't know where you stand?" Maka finished for him, allowing him a slight breather. "If you should... take this to another level or not?"

"Yeah."

"Or if you should just forget it because no way...can a relationship based on sex go anywhere." Kilik nodded, soberly, and she said, more to herself than him: "And if that's the case, then...what can you do about it?"

"Could stop." Kilik suggested, with a helpless shrug. "Or just keep goin' – see where it leads."

"That's dangerous."

"Yeah, well, what's life without taking a few risks?" Kilik looked at her, grinning. "And if it ain't meant to be, there are always more fish in the sea!" He placed his glass on the bar table, happier than before. "You only live once, might as well make the most of it, right?"

Maka stared at him, astonished by his resiliency. "...How can you—?"

"Nya, Maka!" Blair draped an arm around her, clearly drunk. "C'mon, dance with _me_..." She purred, and her hands slid down the curves of her body; _sensually_, just as Maka's eyes widened and her body tensed at the woman's shameless advances – her fingers dancing around the hem of her skirt, a hand grazing the tops of her breasts, beginning to clutch them between her fingers – !

"Hey, get your hands off her!" Soul snarled, pulling her away from Blair. "What the hell, Blair?"

"Nya, Soul, if you want some, too, all you had to do was _ask_!" Blair coyly said, grinning lustfully. "Blair is open for a threesome – !"

"Blair, quit it!" Kilik snapped, taking her wrist. "You're drunk – c'mon, we're leaving, before you do something _stupid_ again!"

"Noo!" Blair whined, but allowed herself to be dragged out by Kilik. "I don't wanna' leave! Kilik – ngggh! I don't wanna'!"

"Too bad, you're _gonna_'! Sorry Maka, Soul, see you two later!" Kilik shouted over the bass, Blair swaying to the beat and completely ignoring Kilik despite him dragging her through the dance floor.

"Jeez, how uncool. She's a total lesbo no matter what she says." Soul sighed, and glanced down at Maka. "And you – why didn't you push her off, genius?"

"I-I didn't know." Maka said, still shocked. She looked to where Kilik had dragged Blair through. "I just didn't... anticipate it, that's all.."

"Well, don't let your guard down like that." Soul sternly said, placing a hand over her head. Maka started again, looking up into wryly amused eyes. "I can't always be there to protect you, idiot."

She _hadn't_ anticipated it – not her lewd advances, not her mistaking her for a sixteen year old, not her disgusting career option as a whore.

But she also hadn't anticipated Kilik being in the same situation as herself.

And she also hadn't expected herself to follow his words:

"_You only live once, might as well make the most of it..."_

"Hey... Soul?"

"What?"

"You know that favour you asked me a few days ago?"

He tensed. "Yeah, what of it?"

"I'll do it."

Soul stared at her, at the way she looked up at him with hard determination. He wondered, for a split second, what changed, what provoked her to accept his reluctant invitation all of a sudden. But, in that moment, it no longer _mattered_ because now he had _someone_ and he wouldn't face his mothers smug sneer nor his fathers disapproval that night.

He smirked. "Great. I'll pick you up at five tomorrow – don't be late."

"_You only live once..."_

"I should be telling _you _that!"

"_I'm _not the one who's gonna' take _hours _getting my hair done!"

"Who said I was?"

"You took a whole _hour_ fixing your hair into a freakin' _bun _before we came here!" Soul exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at her hair.

"It wasn't an hour – it was twenty minutes, you jerk!"

"Sure _felt _like an hour – OW!"

"Soul, just shut up. Let's just go back to my apartment, okay? I'm tired and I have to wake Tsubaki up early tomorrow to get a dress." Maka rubbed her eyes out, sighing. She could already imagine how hellish the next day would be. Dress shopping - or shopping in general - had never been her forte.

"You wouldn't _have _to wake up so damn early if you'd just said _yes _when I asked you." Soul grumbled, massaging his sore shoulder. "C'mon, before it gets any later... I need _Advil_..." And she followed him out to his terrifying motorcycle, where she held onto him tightly and pretended she didn't notice the way his hand pressed over hers in silent comfort every time they stopped at a red light.

" _...might as well make the most of it, right?"_

She didn't know anymore.


	5. Chapter 5

**Stopgap  
>by. <strong>_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

><p><strong>5a<strong>

* * *

><p>The dress itched.<p>

The night was chilly, the full moon hung in the darkened sky radiantly.

It was the perfect night for a cup of hot cocoa and a novel before bed.

She wondered what she was doing here so late, sacrificing valuable studying and leisure time, dressed down in the silky and stylish emerald gown Tsubaki had bought her for prom night (which she had never worn because she skipped prom), with her hair styled in soft curls; clipped behind her head. Soul was lucky she changed her mind at the last second and agreed to his poorly asked request...

It was a concert, he had first told her. It was mandatory and it was too short notice for him to find someone else.

It was no wonder she'd rejected him at first, Maka sourly thought as she remembered that night.

"_I was gonna' ask you anyway," he said, rather amused by the deep scowl that marred her face when he said he had no one else to ask. "You'd probably keep me from bashing my brains out with a violin out of boredom."_

"_I'd probably let you."_

"_C'mon, Maka, don't be like that." Soul smirked, arms crossed behind his head. "You know you'd miss me."_

"_I'd miss that," she pointed below his waist flatly. "But not you."_

_Soul merely snorted._

She gazed up at the impressive amphitheater while Soul handled something by the ticket booth; watched the elegantly dressed men and women that strode past them with that same air of superiority Soul sometimes displayed. Embezzled dresses, gold hanging off their wrists, ears, necks like paper weight. Suited men, with their hair slicked back, their ties in alignment with their vest, wearing haughty smirks matched with condescending eyes.

She felt misplaced amongst the aristocrats.

She wanted to leave.

"C'mon, let's get this over with." Soul muttered, grabbing her arm. He led her inside, and she noticed his hand was tugging at his neck; as if the white collar were suffocating him. For someone who appeared to never have an interest in these sort of things, Soul cleaned up rather nice and looked the part.

His suit was black and white; plain, yet it illustrated his usually bored crimson eyes and tanned skin perfectly. His hair had been combed back, still rather messy but a drastic improvement from usual. His shoes, she noticed discreetly, were polished enough that she caught her reflection in them with every step.

"If we're going to pretend we're a couple," Maka began, aggravated, "then you're going to have to _act _the part of a caring boyfriend!" She tore her arm out of his tight grasp. "And caring boyfriends don't drag around their girlfriends like they're baggage!" It had been a request Soul had asked her before they'd arrived, stating that then his mother would ask no questions.

Soul rolled his eyes. "Then you haven't gotten around that much, have you, Maka?" He hissed when she stomped her heel into his shoe. Her heels were _spikes_, to his horror.

"Shut up! Hiro never treated me like this, even if he _was_ an ass." A flash of silver came from the stage and her eyes were automatically drawn to it, missing the hard expression that crossed Soul's face just as the silver haired man on the stage announced his greeting to his audience. "Come on, Soul, it's starting! Your family is probably wondering where you're at by now..."

"Yeah." And he said nothing else, taking her by the wrist this time.

Maka noticed his steps were measured; his shoulders straight and his back rigid. There was a neutrality to his expression that disturbed her; as if missing vital human emotions were a natural process of his life. And when she looked forward, her eyes locking on the judgmental gaze of a beautiful woman with ruby lips and equally bright eyes, she understood why.

"Sit here." Soul said, guiding her down into the seat before he straightened and glided toward his mother. Maka watched silently: the woman's expression was measured as well, detached, as her son bent down to kiss her cheek. She asked something quietly and Soul replied with a single nod. She seemed to lose interest then, her gloved hand merely patting his cheek once; dismissing him instantly.

She noticed the man sitting beside the beautiful woman, with crystal blue eyes clear enough to rival Hiro's yet lacking the idiotic warmth that her ex boyfriend's held. His own hair was raven black, slicked back strictly; his wife's a silvery gray, let loose in enviable curls down her shoulders, her ample chest. It was obvious that her sons had inherited her genes and not their fathers...

"This is why I hate coming to these things." Soul grumbled, dropping down beside her. "Fuckin' stiffs all over the god damn place."

"Shh, keep it down!" Maka shushed. "They can hear you!"

"Let'em hear me! I don't give a shit." Soul said, snidely. "They know it's true."

"Soul!" Maka grabbed the sleeve to his blazer, bringing his low enough so she could say in his ear: "I don't care if you don't want to be here: you _have_ to be here, so deal with it!" She hissed. "Stop making this worse than it is – I don't want to be here, either!"

"Really?" Soul raised a skeptical brow. "Most girls would kill to be here, surrounded by all these rich bastards. Who knows? You might get lucky."

Maka pursed her lips. "How many times do I have to tell you: I'm _not_ like most girls." She cast him a sharp, side-long, look. "I'm just doing this because is was an emergency and I didn't have anything better to do on Sunday, anyway." She sunk into her seat, her hands placed timidly on her lap.

She stiffened when she felt him lean over, his lips purposely brushing the sensitive rim of her ear.

"Don't worry," he whispered, his fingers brushing the skin of her arm tauntingly, "I'll make it up to you later."

Her mouth dried and her heart sped up to a grossly pace and she wondered what was happening to her as the lights shut down and a single spotlight illuminated a man capable of awing the angles himself with his talent.

* * *

><p><strong>5b<strong>

"Of course he'd _wow_ another crowd." Soul sarcastically said, as they made their way outside the amphitheater at a snails pace. Maka tried looking ahead of the tall men and women but didn't even catch sight of the exit sign. "He _is _a prodigy! Guess I should've known better than to be surprised..."

"I thought it sounded nice." Maka commented, with a small smile. Soul rose a brow.

"_Just_ nice?"

"Well, yeah." Maka smiled a little more. "This is the first time I've ever heard this type of music before, so I have nothing to compare it to."

"Then you should be amazed by it!" Soul persisted. "Why aren't you amazed? He performed all of those scores without missing a single note – it was _perfect_!" He sounded bitter.

"Well, I'm not!" Maka snapped, self-conscious. "I – it's just music! I don't see any sort of amazing feeling that can come from stringing together a bunch of notes!"

Soul gawked, affronted, as if she had just insulted his mother—although, Maka agreed dryly, he would've probably not been as insulted if she'd talked smack about his mother instead of the concept of music. "How could you not see any sort of _feeling _in music? Music is the _one_ medium where a person can pour their entire _soul _into a song! Where they could make others feel how _they _feel! It's one of the best ways to express yourself!"

"I think they're better ways – like, painting!"

"Painting is gay." Soul deadpanned. "Music is better."

"No, it's not!" Maka argued. "You're only saying that because you like music better than art! Art is a perfectly good way to express yourself – it's probably easier and better to express yourself through art than it is through music!"

"Is not!" Soul scoffed. "What do you get out of a bunch of shitty lines and colors? _Nothing_."

"Well – what do _you _get out of a bunch of random sounds?"

"First of all, music isn't composed out of a 'bunch of random sounds' – it has to be aesthetically pleasing on the ears, and there's a process to composing."

Maka glared. "There's a process to art, too, it's not just a bunch of 'shitty lines and colors', Soul."

Soul scowled heavily, slipping his hands into his pockets and looking away stubbornly. "Whatever, I _still_ like music better." He paused, as she huffily stated she preferred art over music, and asked: "Hey, what type of music _do _you like? That crappy pop they play on the radio?"

"NO!" Maka glowered. She crossed her arms, stating proudly: "I like trance fusion."

"Oh, _god_." Soul gaped, looking horrified for her. Maka, on the other hand, had no idea why he looked so nauseated. Trance fusion was a pretty good genre of music, at least in her opinion. "I've never met a more musically illiterate person in my _life_!"

"I'm _not _musically illiterate!" Maka shouted, stopping altogether. The crowd split around them, continuing their march to the exit, as they shouted at each other. "I don't get what's the big deal about music - so what? I don't even know how to play an instrument – do you?"

He stopped, too. "Yeah."

Maka blinked, rather surprised. "You do? W-what do you play?"

"Piano."

"The piano..." Maka trailed off, wondrous. Somehow, the instrument fit him.

"You know, the one with the black and white keys? Big, shiny, usually black?"

"Yes, I _know _what it is!" Maka ground out, adding in a considerably softer voice: "That guy... Wes Evans, he's you're brother, right?"

"Yeah, so?" He sounded guarded.

"So if he's your brother, and your family comes from a long line of famous musicians... then why aren't you up there?" Maka curiously asked, knowing now that the Evans family were quite the celebrities amongst the classical music enthusiasts. She could see why as well: Wes was, she supposed, rather amazing, in the way he fluidly handled his instrument. And if the whispers that had surrounded her after he finished a piece said anything, then the Evans family was practically comprised of the most talented musicians the world had to offer...

Then what of Soul?

Maka watched his eyes harden and his face frost into that scary, neutral, expression that made her gut knot up.

"Because I _don't _have talent." He stated with a conviction that made Maka's chest tighten. "That's why."

Somehow, Maka didn't believe him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Stopgap  
>by. <strong>_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

><p><strong>6a<strong>

* * *

><p>She ran.<p>

In loose basketball shorts with a light colored track jacket thrown over her to keep the morning chill at bay, she jogged down the sidewalk with her MP3 player clutched tightly in her hand. The music that blared through the earphones was not the usual pounding, thrumming, bass she'd grown so accustomed to but a softer sound, almost classical; a beautifully composed string of sounds she actually didn't mind listening to.

On the skyline, the sun was beginning to rise. The buildings were still layered in shadows when Maka came to a slow stop, reaching one building in particular. Panting softly, she took off one ear-bud and stared toward the third floor, where she knew _he _lay on his bed, drooling on his pillow, sound asleep.

She hadn't seen him since his brothers concert 3 days ago.

Maka replaced her ear-bud in her ear and continued her early morning jog.

"Maka-chan!" Tsubaki waved, waiting by the corner down the block. She was in her usual exercise clothes; already sweating, as she had gotten an early start. "What took you so long? Did you oversleep?"

"Mm, yeah." Maka smiled sheepishly, and Tsubaki giggled. "I stayed up late studying for a test we have on Friday. My alarm woke me up, but..."

"You fell right back asleep?"

"Yeah." She laughed, and Tsubaki joined her.

"Well, we're just going to have to make up for it!" Tsubaki stated, determined. She checked her watch. "It's six thirty – we'll stop at eight, how about it? We have been slacking off recently and you need to keep yourself in top shape if you're going to sign up for that martial arts competition next month."

"I need to work out my triceps a little more." Maka muttered, flexing an arm. "They're my weakest point right now."

"Do you want to hit the gym afterward?" Tsubaki offered. "We can stop running at seven thirty and walk to the gym..."

"Sounds like a plan!" Maka smiled, brightly. "C'mon, we're wasting time just standing around!" And they both turned and ran down their usual route, one listening to bubbly pop and the other discovering the wonders of classical.

* * *

><p><strong>6b<strong>

Why... did these things happen to her?

"Don't look at him." Tsubaki whispered, distressed. "Maybe he won't notice us if we act natural..."

Maka bit her lip, laying down on the bench press, focused on a shadow on the ceiling and _not_ the blond that worked out his biceps by the window. He hadn't seemed to notice them yet because he made no inclination of coming over to talk, as he usually did even after Maka and he broke up.

"I'm _not _looking at him!" Maka whispered, finishing a set and allowing Tsubaki to help her replace the barbell back. "What the hell is he _doing _here, anyway? I thought he went to that fancy new one by downtown!"

"He was, but I'm not sure anymore..." Tsubaki bit her lip, wringing her hands as she usually did when she didn't know what to do. "He told me a few weeks ago that he preferred the new one because they had better exercise equipment, and they gave away free water bottles if you frequented enough..."

"Then why is he _here_ of all places?' Maka swallowed when Hiro turned to add weight to his dumbbell. She quickly laid back down before he could notice her. "We have to get out, Tsubaki, I _really _don't want to talk to him right now!"

And _just_ when she seemed to be finally, _officially_, getting over that blond idiot, he had to go reappear—_shirtless _as well!

"I know, I know!" Tsubaki looked toward the door and back at Maka. "Okay, I have an idea, but you're going to have to _run _when I say so!"

"Run where?"

"To the exit!"

"No way, that's too obvious!" Maka hissed, sucking in a breath when Hiro drained his water bottle, sighing loudly in relief. "Oh, this is ridiculous! I'm not going to hide from him like some little girl!" Maka sat up, resolved. "I'm twenty one, for crying out loud!"

"And you look sixteen."

Maka froze.

Tsubaki snapped her head to the source of the voice, her face draining of color when she was met with twinkling crimson eyes and a smirking grin. Her eyes automatically dropped to the floor, unable to restrain the flood of memories from _that_ day, while Maka gawked openly at Soul.

"What the _hell _are you doing here?" Maka shouted.

"Working out?" Soul rose a brow. He grinned saucily. "You didn't really think I was _born _with these, did you, pigtails?" He meant his arms, his hard abs. All muscles she'd run her hands over many times before, feeling them ripple beneath her fingertips – !

"Why does everyone come to this stupid gym?" Maka grumbled, laying back down on the bench press. "There are so many other gyms out there – why _this _one?"

"Because it's close-by?" Soul shrugged, glancing at the woman who stared at the floor in horror. "You must be Tsubaki."

"O-oh!" Tsubaki looked up upon being addressed, smiling shakily. She took Soul's hand when he offered, wary of Tsubaki's sudden embarrassment. "Yes, and you must be Soul-san. It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Tsubaki Nakatsukasa."

"Ah! That's right, you've never met Soul before, have you, Tsubaki?" Maka exclaimed, remembering.

"Mm. I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot of each other – Black Star speaks very highly of you." Tsubaki politely said, her hands laced together in front of her. She told herself she would not be rude! This was Maka's... _very_ close friend, and she would treat him with respect! Not cower like a twelve year old girl!

"You know Black Star?" Maka asked, surprised.

Soul grinned. "I've known that idiot since high school!" He looked back at Tsubaki. "Guess you're the chick who's been hanging around him recently, huh? He doesn't shut up about you whenever he calls me." Soul yawned, rolling his eyes when Tsubaki flushed red. "He's so uncool sometimes..."

Maka smiled at Tsubaki when she tried to defend Black Star. Then she looked at Hiro, finding him looking back at them. Before their eyes could meet, Maka looked away and laid back down on the bench press. "Hey, Tsubaki, add ten pounds, would you?"

"Ah! Of course!"

"You can lift 200?" Soul gaped. Maka smirked. "What the _hell,_ woman? That's insane! You'll tear a muscle if you -!" But he watched, in disbelief, as she began to lift two hundred in quick successions, managing twenty five reps before Tsubaki helped her replace the barbell back in place. Chuckling in disbelief, he pinched the bridge of his nose to hide a growing grin, and said: "You're really something, Maka."

Maka merely beamed, laughing when he pushed her off the bench to see if he could beat her.

"I bet I can do thirty!"

"Ha! I'd like to see you try!"

"Watch me, pigtails." Soul growled.

Maka huffed, scowling and critically watching for any signs of strain as Soul began to lift.

Tsubaki smiled contently, watching her friend and Soul argue when Soul managed to reach thirty.

"You cheated!"

"Cheated? How the hell can you _cheat _with that thing? It was 200 and I did 30 reps, get over it!" Soul gloated. "I'm just stronger than you, admit it."

"ARGH! MAKA CHOP!"

"Wha - shit, _ow_! That hurt! I didn't think you were _this _much of a sore loser!"

"I am _not _a sore loser! You just cheated!" Maka insisted, whacking him on the head again with her fist for extra measure. "I want a rematch!"

Soul smirked. "You're on. First one to top the other gets _one_ favour; no limits. How about it?"

Maka narrowed her eyes at his challenge. "Deal."

"Ah, Maka, are you sure that's okay? You've only just begun to lift so much weight, if you over do it you might actually tear a muscle..." But Tsubaki's concern was dismissed when Maka kicked Soul off the bench press and laid down on it herself, determined to prove her jagged-toothed friend that she was much stronger than how she looked.

And Hiro watched them all with hard eyes, his water bottle crushing slowly in his hand when he caught the lingering touch of their fingers as Soul handed the barbell to Maka.


	7. Chapter 7

**Stopgap  
>by. <strong>_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

><p><strong>7a<strong>

* * *

><p>The cellphones vibrations echoed loudly in his room.<p>

He rolled over on his bed, bleary-eyed and yawning, and reached for it lazily.

Unbidden, a smile came to his face when he read the message. He typed back a response and let his phone fall on his chest. When it vibrated again a few minutes later, he read her reply, stifled a yawn, and finally sat up. "Man, why the hell did _he_ have to come? Had such a great idea if I won..." He cracked his back, his neck, and sighed in satisfaction.

He meant Black Star. He had arrived at the gym the same morning he saw Maka a few days ago, after being texted by Tsubaki, and had somehow wormed his way into their competition. Needless to say, they both lost to him, although Soul amused himself by watching Maka and Black Star go at it verbally, resulting in Maka nearly kicking his friends face into the wall when he insulted her cup size again.

_They're good enough to play with. _Soul thought, with a shameless smirk. _Of course that idiot wouldn't understand. _He slipped on a t-shirt, readying himself for a day to do Black Star's bidding. Luckily, Tsubaki had been there to regulate his friends usually merciless requests, and all Black Star had asked for was a game of basketball by the courts.

_It's a good thing Black Star came, though. _Soul mused, sitting on the edge of his bed to pull on his shoes. _Or something would have gone down between me and that blond dumbass._

He couldn't understand how someone like Maka could have dated that moron. Sure, he was a looker, with his crystal blue eyes and built body, but surely Maka wasn't that type of girl? His eyes flickered to his mirror, where he could see his reflection stare back at him.

Disheveled silver hair, cool crimson eyes, and an absolutely _insufferable_ mask composed of either amusement or boredom.

He was a stark opposite of that idiot, Hiro.

_Why... did she stay with him even after he cheated on her? _Soul wondered. He cleared his throat, rubbing his chest against something bitter and sour that rose up from within. Thinking about it always produced this strange reaction.

His eyes strayed to his CD and record collection, everything meticulously labeled and sorted for his own personal use. After a few seconds of contemplation, Soul browsed through a few titles and pulled out one CD. A few more bands caught his eye but he decided upon this one, slipping it into his hoodie before he could talk himself out of it.

That girl needed a good lesson in music, Soul decided.

Who better to teach her than someone who had grown up with it?

* * *

><p><strong>7b<strong>

She _hated_ this.

Maka stood awkwardly to the side, fidgeting with the sleeves of her sweater, watching as Black Star spun a basketball on his forefinger and Tsubaki tied her hair into a high ponytail. Soul had taken off his hoodie by the benches, stretching out his arms and cracking his neck, no doubt preparing for a vigorous game of basketball with his best friend.

_I...I can't play basketball. _Maka swallowed, thickly. This was why she'd dreaded today, made all sorts of excuses to avoid it, yet Tsubaki had seen through every single one of them and urged her to come. Tsubaki knew she couldn't play; knew she'd skipped pep rally's at school, avoided the PE field after classes like the plague, and generally spent her free time holed up in her room with a textbook. Yet she'd still made her come with the promise that they would teach her; go easy on her.

After they had their good laugh, that is.

"C'mon, Maka, what's the hold up?" Black Star hollered, Tsubaki smiling encouragingly at her.

_Hell no. I'm not playing!_ "Ah, if you don't mind, I don't want to play..."

"EH? What do you mean you don't wanna' play?" Black Star screamed, catching Soul's attention. "The whole reason we came here was to play two on two! No way, you can't back out now! I forbid it! I won the bet, remember?"

"Look, I don't feel like playing, alright? It's not like you can _force_ me to play." Maka said, stubbornly. "You weren't even supposed to be in our competition! It doesn't count!"

"BUT—!"

"Black Star, if Maka doesn't feel like playing, then she doesn't feel like playing. Please don't force people to do something against their will; it's not kind." Tsubaki softly told him, smiling sweetly when he turned to shoot her a look of betrayal. But the look vanished at the sight of her smile and instead he directed his anger back at Maka.

"How come you don't wanna' play? You can't play or something!" Black Star grumbled but when Maka jumped, face growing steadily darker, it all clicked. A wide grin marred his face as he stated: "_You _can't play basketball!"

"I-I can so! I just don't want to play right now!" Maka sputtered, but Black Star had already doubled-over laughing. "Hey, shut up, it's not funny! I SAID TO SHUT UP!" Maka threw her hardcover novel at him, deriving some satisfaction from watching him face-plant.

"Black Star!" Tsubaki squeaked, while he twitched on the floor.

"What's this? You can't play basketball? Man, where did _you_ crawl out of? Who _doesn't_ know how to play basketball?" Soul smirked, walking into the court dressed in basketball shorts and a loose gray t-shirt.

Maka glared, about to punch him for being a jerk, when Tsubaki spoke up.

"Maka-chan doesn't know how to play many sports because she never bothered to learn any! Maka-chan focused mostly on combat-arts, l-like mixed martial arts and tai-jutsu! S-she just had other things to focus on, please don't bully her!" She bravely said, trying to assuage her own guilt for dragging her friend along against her will, and Soul cocked a brow. She looked like she was on a roll there and Soul wondered if he should burst her bubble...

"HAHA! Who cares? I'm a pro in all sorts of martial arts and I can _still _play basketball!" Black Star obnoxiously said.

"Oh, yeah? I'd like to see you _try_ to beat me!" Maka snapped, and Black Star's grin turned sinister at her bold statement.

"You? Beat _me_? Someone as _small _as you beat someone as _big _as me?" He approached her, all confidence and swagger, but Maka was not intimidated. She'd dealt with arrogant assholes like him more times than she'd like. "When and where, tiny-tits?"

"It doesn't matter to me, _midget_, the result will be the same." She told him, confidently. "You'll lose."

The ball was thrown roughly to Soul, who caught it coolly. But his crooked smile faltered at the gradually intensifying tension between his friends. Tsubaki also looked uneasy.

This couldn't be good.

"Alright then – right here, right now. First one to call mercy loses. But if you cry, it ain't my problem, got it?" He warned, cracking his knuckles.

She clenched her hand. "Loud and clear."

"Whoa, hey." Soul clapped a hand on his friends shoulder, bringing him back some. Black Star tried to jerk his shoulder away but Soul held on tight. "Chill out, man, we came here for a game, not a fight."

"Does it matter? Someone's walking out of here victorious anyhow! And it's gonna' be _me_."

"I didn't come here to watch a fight, I came here for a game." Soul hardened his voice when he saw his friend was beyond subtle reach. "If you two want to fight, do it some other time, not now." He looked sternly at Maka. "What's it gonna' be?"

Maka's cold eyes never left Black Star's equally cold ones. It was until she sneered, looking away in disgust, that he tore his eyes away from her and spun on his heel, plainly ignoring her.

"Tch, whatever! Hitting a defenseless girl would give me nightmares, anyway!" He snottily stated, and before Maka could snarl out a reply, Soul stood in front of her.

"Hey, calm down." He frowned, placing a hand on her shoulder; gentler than he had with Black Star. "What's up with you? You're never this temperamental." He'd hung around her enough to know that she was uptight and serious but she usually had a tight band around her emotions. It wasn't like her to lose it over Black Star's expected immaturity.

"Defenseless...!" Maka spat, with fury burning her eyes a shocking lime color. "I am _not _defenseless. The day he wants a fight, I'll give it to him, and he'll be sorry he ever tried to mess with me." There was a threat in her tone, an unbridled hate that simmered deep within her eyes, that told him this went beyond Black Star's flippant teasing.

Something happened to her, but before he could ask, Black Star shouted:

"Hey! Are we gonna' play or not? We're burnin' daylight!"

"I'll pass, thanks." Maka shrugged Soul's hand away and picked up her book from the floor, heading over to the benches without so much as a look in their direction. Black Star didn't seem to care: he merely rolled his eyes at her theatrics and bounced the ball a few times before tossing it into the basket.

"Hey, what's up with her?" Soul asked Tsubaki, when he approached her. She startled at being addressed so suddenly. "She doesn't get pissed off this easily. I'd know – I've pissed her off a lot of times." Yet she always forgave him, after a good thwack on the head to cool her ire.

"I'm not sure... no, that would be a lie, I'm sorry." Tsubaki murmured, biting her lip. "But it's not my place to tell you why she is acting like this today of all days. When she's ready, she'll tell you. Or perhaps you will stumble upon it one of these days, if you are as close to her as you make it out to be." She forced a smile, almost sincere yet it held a plastic quality. "But if you do... please do not mention it unnecessarily."

"Mention _what_?" Soul asked, frustrated. "What happened to her that's so bad you can't tell me?"

Tsubaki's smile did not waver in the least. Soul found that rather unnerving. "You'll see. Thank you for your concern, though, I know Black Star is your friend..."

"Black Star doesn't know when to stop." Soul shrugged, casting a covert look at Maka, who had immersed herself in her novel already. "And when he gets riled up like that, it's dangerous." His hand rubbed his chest absently, feeling the scarred flesh beneath. "I had to step in before he did something he'd regret again."

"Again...?" Tsubaki whispered, distracted only when Black Star tossed her the ball and stated they'd play individually since they were unevenly paired.

But Soul's accidental slip-up made her uneasy.

Again?


	8. Chapter 8

**Stopgap  
>by. <strong>_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

><p><strong>8a<strong>

* * *

><p>Maka tossed her jacket on her couch, heading into her room. She toed off her shoes, took off her shirt and track pants and tossed them on her bedsheets. She walked into her closet, taking out the short plaid skirt and low-cut white shirt she'd picked out a few hours previously.<p>

She changed into them, slipping into white-strapped combat boots and quickly fixing her low pigtails into tight, high ones like before.

When she looked into the mirror, she saw her sixteen year old self looking back. The same green eyes, shades darker with knowledge; the same outfit, her bland uniform from her younger days; the same hair style, twin pigtails on either side of her head.

But she didn't pay that any heed, slamming the door to her bedroom closed and heading out into the darkening streets again; a cellphone clutched tightly in her hand.

Maybe she had snapped at Black Star too harshly, maybe she was being unreasonable. Maybe she shouldn't have displaced her anger on him and worried Tsubaki with her irrational mood.

Maybe she shouldn't have shoved past Soul when he was only concerned about her.

Maka looked both ways after she arrived at the restaurant, searching for the one person who had yet to arrive and staving off her building guilt by telling herself it didn't matter if he disliked her now or not.

It wasn't as if he was someone who really mattered to her, and vice versa.

He was just a guy she met at a bar who had no problem fucking her until she no longer felt empty inside.

That's all.

"Maka! _Maka! _Over here!"

Taking a brave breath, somewhat grateful he had not stood her up this time, Maka turned to face her father.

"Papa..."

Guilt was exhausting and hatred was bittersweet, she decided.

* * *

><p><strong>8b<strong>

Soul couldn't sleep.

He tossed and turned and sighed and punched his mattress but nothing helped. His curtains were drawn, blocking the slant of moonlight from causing him further agitation, but even that didn't help. After a few more minutes of this, he sat up irately.

He was too energetic tonight.

Moodily, he looked down below his waist.

Yeah, doing _that _would probably tire him out enough to allow him to get a good nights rest. But Maka wasn't there with him: she'd departed shortly after they'd grown tired of playing basketball.

Needless to say, after Maka left, everyone went their separate ways as well.

Tsubaki's words were still resounding in his head, further preventing him from getting a good nights rest. Whatever happened to Maka wasn't good, if it had her like that, and for a split second he thought of Hiro and that shit-eating grin he always wore.

He fisted his sheets.

If he was pestering her, he'd have to interfere.

His cellphone went off and he jumped, startled out of his broody thoughts.

He immediately reached for it, cursing when he was too hasty and ended up bumping into the nightstand. His phone toppled to the floor and he dove after it, answering it far more coolly than he actually looked.

"What's up?"

"_Soul-kun? Please forgive me for calling so late but, um, is Maka-chan with you?"_

"...No. I haven't seen her since our game."

"_Sh-she's not? But, she promised me she would be back before midnight and it's... it's already five minutes before one." _She sounded scared. That didn't help his nerves. _"Her father always brought her back when he said he would, yet today... unless..."_

"Whoa, hold up, father? She's with her dad right now?" Soul blew a strand of hair out of his face in relief. His heart calmed, and he forced away the image of Hiro from his mind. "Jeez, don't scare me like that. What're you so worried about? If she's with her dad then she's fine!"

"_No! You don't understand..." _Tsubaki struggled with her words before she sighed in defeat and said: _"I told you it was not in my place to tell you but... I suppose I have no choice now. I hope she can forgive me... Maka-chan and her father have a very strained relationship, you see. The reason Maka was so secluded for most of her high school years was mainly because of him, and then Hiro._

_Maka-chan's father is very...ah, open. As for Maka-chan's mother, she hasn't seen her since she was fifteen. She – disappeared after the divorce__. He won custody when she was sixteen because her mother no longer looked after her. She wanted to travel the world to rediscover herself, and Maka-chan was still under-aged, so she had no choice. Her father...insists on being apart of Maka-chan's life although she holds very deep resent for him. He tries, but... well...despite her mothers disappearance, she still prefers her over him."_

"Ah, I get it now. You don't have to keep going." Soul heaved a sigh, rubbing his forehead. That was why she looked so terrified when he cornered her at the bar after giving Hiro another shot: she didn't want to be like her father, cheating on their partners. She had a childhood trauma, a deep-set insecurity and distrust. "Hiro did the same thing, didn't he?"

"_Now you understand why Maka-chan doesn't mind this – I'm sorry if I sound rude – unhealthy relationship with you. It's likely she believes... because it's only a physical relationship and you two have no emotional obligation to one another... she will not get hurt and she is doing no wrong, although it's the complete opposite."_

"Sex always complicates things." Soul bluntly stated, ignoring Tsubaki's embarrassed gasp. "...Is she home yet?"

"_No."_

Soul threw off his sheets, raiding his closet for a shirt and jeans. He shrugged on his leather jacket and ran a hand through his hair to somewhat tame the unruly locks. He pulled on his boots as he spoke:

"Where did she say she was going?"

"_The french restaurant a few blocks down from where she lives. That's why I'm even more worried: what if something happened to her while she was walking back? Maybe she got mugged or – or – !"_

"As if a couple of thugs could bring her down, not if she's got a book on her." He humored, and Tsubaki smiled faintly at his attempts. "I'll have her back before two." Soul promised, and bade her farewell. But before he could hang up and begin his search, Tsubaki spoke up:

"_And... Soul-san?"_

"Yeah?"

"_This... this never happened." _She fumbled timidly on the other line. Her tone hardened. _"Please, don't mention this to her. She is very sensitive about – her family life."_

"...Yeah, no problem. She isn't the only one who's hiding from her past."

And he hung up.


	9. Chapter 9

**Stopgap  
>by. <strong>_Poisoned Scarlet_

* * *

><p><strong>9a<strong>

* * *

><p>Her papa was scum.<p>

Maka rested her head in her arms, gazing at the steam that rose from her cup of coffee. The street was empty, and the streetlights were circled with glowing halos. The doughnut shop she had turned to for shelter was cramped between an auto-repair shop and a taekwondo studio. The floors were relatively clean and the tables were worn with vandalism and age.

It was a place she didn't usually come to for comfort but it was the nearest coffee place she could find that wasn't closed.

She had caused a scene again.

In her defense, righteous rage had blinded her. She was unable to cope with the thought that even though her father said he _loved_ her, he didn't. How _could_ he when he was saying the exact same thing to every other pretty girl he met? Her fathers word was invalid now. It had _always_ been, she decided, from the instant he'd said those words to her when she was seven and turned to another nameless girl and repeated them.

But she would deal with it.

She was already getting over it, as her coffee cooled.

"_Don't worry_, _I'm okay."_

It began when he flirted with the waitress. He _always_ flirted with the waitresses. He flirted with anything that had legs and a vagina, actually. Size didn't matter; shape didn't matter, either, although he had a preference. But so long as he was able to get his fill, he did not care, and that was what disgusted her the most about him. He was shameless and selfish, how could someone not feel ashamed about that? Maka wondered. Although, she was the same in a way, and it made bitter tears well in her eyes.

This waitress had taken the bait and left him her phone number when she brought the check in early, as they ate in strained silence. They thought Maka hadn't noticed their covert looks: the coy curl of her grin and the excited, lewd, twinkle in her fathers eyes. They thought she wouldn't know the difference between a cheery smile and one with hidden intentions, a flippant comment and one loaded with meaning.

They were wrong.

But she dealt with it – even if her way of dealing with it involved cursing him to hell and running out, disappearing around a corner with her fathers helpless cries fading along with everything else.

"_I'm okay."_

Maka dropped her head back in her arms to stifle the sudden surge of anger. It wasn't as if she could call Tsubaki to vent: her phone had kicked the bucket an hour into dinner. She couldn't get a hold of anyone even if she tried. However, at the moment, she was grateful for this cut-off of her social life.

It gave her time to think.

It gave her time to deal with it like she always did.

"_I'm okay."_

"So this is where you've been all this time."

"Wha – Soul?" Maka snapped her head up, shocked to find him coming over to her with a black helmet tucked under his arm. He placed it on the table, the scowl profound on his face. "What are you doing here – do you know what time it is?"

"I should be telling you that. Tsubaki's worried sick about you!" Soul barked, and she recoiled at his lecturing tone. "If you're gonna' waste time beating yourself over it, you could at least tell Tsubaki not to wait up for you. It'd save us _both_ the trouble of coming out here to look for you."

"Beating myself up over _what_?" Maka narrowed her eyes, guarded. "What are you _talking_ about?"

"That's what'd like to know. What were you doing out so late in the first place?" Soul studied her, how she refused to meet his gaze and looked about ready to walk out on him. Maybe it was a dumb idea to say it, but... "You cheating on me or something?"

It _was_ a dumb idea. This was why he got into so much trouble; why he got his ass handed to him sometimes.

Why did he say it when he _knew_ it was a sore topic for her?

Because he had no filter? Because he wanted her to tell him what ate her up inside at night, even if it meant hurting her in the process? Because he was exhausted, sexually frustrated, and he knew what would happen next...? Or was it because he was simply a heartless jerk who somehow got a rise in rubbing salt on wounds?

He decided he wasn't a heartless jerk: he was just a fuckin' _idiot._

"Y...YOU JERK!"

He admitted it: he deserved that punch.

"How could you even _say_ that – _ugh_! I'd be more convinced about _you_ cheating on _me_ with some other girl! You men are all the same – I'd _never_ do that– _ARGH_!"

But he could fairly say he did _not_ deserve the next two punches or that whack on the head with his bikes helmet. That was just overkill. He got the point after the first punch: he was an idiot, he was a jerk, and maybe he should try other tactics to get her to open up to him.

"Hold it – jeez, Maka, I was _kidding! _I didn't mean – WATCH WHERE YOU SWING THAT THING!"

"It wasn't _funny!_ I don't even know why you're here! It's none of your business! Just go – _away_!" She threw the helmet at him, intent on knocking him out cold, but he caught it swiftly and fixed her with a stern stare.

"I'm here to take you back home, what do you _think_ I'm here for? A cup of coffee?" He sneered.

"I don't know! That's why – that's why I'm asking you, you moron!" She shouted thickly, but she bravely kept her eyes from misting over with tears.

"_I'm okay."_

"I came because I _care_ about you!"

It was a lie.

She knew a lie when she saw one.

"I wouldn't be running around at _three_ in the fucking morning if I didn't!"

Who would, really? They'd wait for a reasonable hour to search for her – it was the normal thing to do, the easy thing to do. They'd make up excuses (_oh, she just got held back, that's all), _they'd convince themselves into thinking she was okay and she didn't need help because Maka was a tough girl and she could deal with it by herself.

She always dealt with it by herself.

"_I'm okay."_

Always by herself.

"... I'm okay. You didn't need to come get me." Maka quietly said, resigned. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine."

Who else had told her that?

Oh, yeah.

Tsubaki, the only other person who knew why she really wasn't okay.

* * *

><p><strong>9b<strong>

Thinking back to it, perhaps he hadn't lied when he said he cared about her. The words had come unbidden; healing words that could mend the singed edges of her heart. He'd mulled over them as he drove her back home, struggling to decide if he meant them or if he was only going to end up as another scar in her soul because he lied.

He decided he did care about her.

He _did_.

Just not in the way friends did.

And that was what stumped him, because in what other way could he _care_ about this girl?

"Maka—!" She pushed her mouth against his, pushed her body against his in silent pleading. Her hands grabbed his stunned ones, guiding them under the hem of her skirt; her breasts. Outside, a crescent moon surrounded by indigo clouds cast a weary sheen upon the land. It made her skin glow a porcelain white, light her hair a soft blonde as his fingers combed through them.

The doorknob of her apartment dug into his lower back.

It was distracting but not as distracting as her soft lips, his growing excitement at what would come next.

She ripped off his jacket, tossing it somewhere by his feet.

His hands slid up her shirt, broke past the border of her bra to fondle the soft flesh underneath. Her soft whines enticed him, made him want more. Soon enough, he was attacking her mouth just as desperately as she was. But was he being dumb again? Making another mistake, hurting her again? She sucked in those tears, refused to shed them, and now she was kissing him with a feral hunger that did not match their previous mood, which had been strained and gloomy.

"Wait..."

Maybe the cool thing to do was go with it. Tsubaki was right: their relationship was warped. It relied on their attraction for each other and nothing else. Their communication had been strictly restrained to ensure estrangement, but he knew more about her than he was allowed to now. It had been safe before, maybe he could've gone with it if Tsubaki hadn't told him a fraction of her life, but now he knew too much. He knew she was hurt and he knew she was not okay, no matter how many times she said she was.

_She_ wasn't okay.

So _this_ wasn't okay.

_Nothing_ that happened within the past thirty or so hours was okay.

"Stop."

Trying to be cool right now... would _not_ be okay.

"You...you don't want it?" Maka whispered, holding back stung tears. Their shaky pants cleared the still silence of the night. "You..."

"...Not like this." He whispered, heart calming. His throat felt tight. "Using me to feel better – that's not cool."

She didn't reply for a few seconds. It was dark in her apartment despite the moonlight that filtered through the blinds. He couldn't see her face but he wished he could. "Then – I guess you should go." She pushed back, searching the floor for answers as to why the rejection had _hurt_ so much. "It's late. Thanks for driving me back..."

He reached down to pick up his jacket but didn't move.

"Go." She turned away from him, placing a tremulous hand over her mouth to muffle her hitching breaths every time she held back sobs.

The door was _right there._

All it took was a step, a twist of a knob, and he was home free.

No strings-attached, right? That was what they'd decided upon? It was a fantastic agreement: he could have her all he wanted and he would have no obligation to her. Then what was all this talk about cheating and caring and refusing her when she was only too willing – even if it was for the wrong reasons?

If he was a real cool guy, it wouldn't matter, because cool guys didn't bother themselves with such finicky emotions; _situations_. They didn't bother with troubled girls, they didn't bother with anything but themselves. To do otherwise would be, well, _uncool. _It was a simple ideal to live by, that was why he liked it.

"Come here." He rested his cheek against her head when he pulled her back to him, not minding that she was moistening his shirt and her sobs sounded more like breathless squeaks because she was too prideful to admit defeat. Her fingers wrinkled his shirt, dug into his chest and into the scar that ran down to his hip.

He never did follow norms, he mused.

His cool was something of his own creation.

"...I brought this CD for you." Soul told her blankly as she cried, remembering he'd left it in his jacket and forgot to give it to her while they had been at the basketball courts. "You can listen to it when you have time." And she seemingly didn't hear him, gasping in breaths as if she were drowning. "Since your taste in music sucks." And he decided she really _wasn't _listening to him because she hadn't hit him on the head yet. Somehow, that made his mood plummet even more. If she'd at least reacted, it would have given him some relief that she wasn't too caught up in the throes of pain.

So he slid down the wall by the door and made himself comfortable, pulling her protectively close to him and observing the ceiling that danced with car headlights while she sobbed into his chest for all the things that weren't okay.

And the gap that separated them shrunk.

* * *

><p><strong>A.N: <strong>Okay, this is the end of _this _arc. I decided I'm going along with my first plan, which was to make three mini series: Quicksand, which is more of an introduction; Stopgap, which is developing some level of familiarity between them; and, finally, _Freefall, _which will deal with the rest _and _answer why Soul has that scar on his chest :D Freefall will be published tomorrow.

_Scarlett._


End file.
